


Mother Knows Best

by Guinevere137



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Parent Stoick the Vast, F/M, Family Drama, I changed the first movie--a lot, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29526861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guinevere137/pseuds/Guinevere137
Summary: Stoick's at a loss.Hiccup's desperate for acceptance.Valka has a 15-year-old secret.They're going to have to communicate eventually.***An AU where Valka stayed on Berk with Hiccup and Stoick.
Relationships: Cloudjumper & Valka (How to Train Your Dragon), Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Toothless, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson, Stoick the Vast/Valka
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So. First thing's first: I update....irregularly. I have the first 4 chapters done of this, but if it takes me a hot minute to get to chapter 5, I apologize. I'm a full time university student with pets and a part time job. These things take time.  
> Also, I'm posting this to get a feel for how y'all will react and what everyone thinks. So, please, pretty please react. Tell me what you think!!

The dragons, as always, came near midnight. 

Stoick, Valka, and Hiccup woke together, in separate parts of the village, to the screech of a Deadly Nadder. Somewhere, a sheep was snatched up. 

Hiccup slammed the door almost as soon as he opened it, wincing as he felt the flame through the flimsy wooden barrier. 

Almost immediately the house was in flames, and Hiccup escaped as soon as possible, racing through the village, legs shaking in anticipation. 

Another dragon raid. Another chance. This time, for sure. 

As Hiccup ran across the town, he heard his mother pleading with the other Vikings to, “Please stop!” He shook his head. When would she learn? 

He fell. “Raaaaahhhh! Mornin’!” A Viking shouted in his face, then smiled at him before racing off to join the fray. 

“Stoick!” Valka shouted over the din. In that moment, Hiccup was scooped up by the back of his shirt. 

“What is he—” he turned Hiccup to face him, “What’re you doing out here?” he tossed Hiccup to the ground. He stumbled. “Get back inside!” 

“Stoick!” Valka admonished. She turned to her son briefly, “Hiccup, dear, go back inside,” she told him. Quickly, she rounded on her husband and as Hiccup ran off, he heard her yell, “You can’t just go throwing your son around!” 

Dimly, Hiccup heard his father’s shouted reply, and he rolled his eyes. Great, they were fighting again. Well, at least they wouldn’t be paying him any mind. 

He got to the forge in what had to be record time, tying his apron on as he entered the room. “There you are!” Gobber greeted, “I thought you’d been carried off!”

Hiccup scoffed, although part of him wondered why he hadn’t been, “What? Me?” he laughed, all bluster, “They wouldn’t want all—all of this! I’m—I’m too—” 

Gobber just laughed and ignored him. “Hold down the fort here. They need me out there!” he announced. Hiccup thanked the gods as he watched Gobber run away. One less set of prying eyes. 

Hiccup grabbed them mangler cannon from the corner of the forge and headed out. He deftly dodged the fighting Vikings and dragons and tuned out the pleas of his mother on the opposite side of the village. 

“C’mon, c’mon, give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at….” He whispered the mantra over and over as he set up the mangler, pleading to the gods for a chance. Just one chance, please! 

Something flew by. “Hiccup!” Valka’s voice pierced the air. Hiccup shot at whatever the Hel it was, only to have it hit, actually hit, and go careening into the forest. 

“Oh gods,” he breathed. “Did anybody see that?” he spun around. “Did anybody see that?” 

“See what?” Valka asked, rounding the curve. Hiccup deflated. “Love, I thought I asked you to get inside!” 

“Mom, Mom, Mom, I hit a Night Fury!” he tried to be excited, but he knew what was coming. Another "You can’t fight dragons," speech.

Something flickered across Valka’s face. Belief. Hurt. Something unidentifiable as her gaze hopped to the forest’s edge. She shook her head. “Hiccup…” 

“Mom, I know what you’re going to say, but—” 

“Val! Hiccup! Get down!” Stoick’s voice overrode anything Hiccup was going to say. Both Haddocks turned in the direction their Chief was pointing, a Monstrous Nightmare climbing the hill toward them. That something danced along Valka’s face and she held out a hand toward the beast. It lit itself on fire. 

“Val! Get. Down!” Stoick leapt on his wife, rolling into Hiccup and slamming all three to the ground. The dragon lunged. Stoick jumped to his feet and swung his axe at the beast. Valka grabbed Hiccup moments later and together they ran toward the Great Hall. 

“I told you to stay inside!” Valka reared on him the moment they were safe. Hiccup flinched. His mother so rarely yelled at him.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” For some reason, he was yelling back before he thought through what he was saying. “And I hit a Night Fury, Mom! A Night Fury!” He waved his arms. “If we could just go—get a search party—we can head into the woods and find it and—” 

“And what, Hiccup?” his mother’s voice had grown cold. “Kill it?” 

“Yes, actually,” Hiccup was growing frustrated. His parents would never see eye to eye on the matter of killing dragons, so he supposed he would never agree with his mother, either. “That’s what has to happen, Mom. They’re dragons! They’ve killed hundreds of us—” 

“And we’ve killed thousands of them! Don’t you want to be better than that, Hiccup?” 

“I want to be wanted!” Hiccup shouted. His mother flinched. The look on her face was something akin to pain. 

“I want you,” she whispered. Broken. 

Hiccup sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “The village. The village doesn’t want me, Mom. I’m the heir of Berk and I’m Useless! I have to kill this dragon. Will you help me?” 

“Help you?” Valka looked startled. “How could I—” 

Hiccup hated this. He hadn’t meant to ask her, but now that he had, he knew he couldn’t do it without her. “Come with me?” he asked in a small voice, knowing he was asking the world of her. “Be my witness?” 

Valka stared. Her son had asked a lot of things of her during his fifteen years on Midgard, but nothing was quite so…

She thought of what he’d said. He wanted to be wanted. 

She couldn’t say no. 

“Alright,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “But I won’t watch the actual killing.” 

Hiccup smiled. “Deal.” 

~*~*~

“I don’t know what to do with him, Gobber,” Stoick sighed. He buried his face in his hands. Across the table, Valka sat, knitting wordlessly. She was probably still mad about earlier, and him admitting that he was at a loss about their son wasn’t going to help. 

For a long time, the only sound in the room was Valka’s knitting needles. Then, finally, Gobber sighed and slammed his empty mug-hand on the table. “Put him in dragon training—with the others,” he suggested. 

Both Haddocks looked up. Part of Stoick wanted to protest, to say that that was a terrible idea, but the more he thought about it—

“Absolutely not!” Valka cried, standing up. “Stoick, tell him! We are not putting our little boy in dragon training! He’d die!” 

Stoick knew she was right. Hiccup was too small, too weak. He couldn’t possibly survive. But, on the off chance that he did, he could grow in character and strength substantially—maybe even kill a dragon one day. It was a risk Stoick was willing to take. 

Valka must have seen this on his face, because her eyes watered with tears. “He’s just a boy, Stoick!”

“He’s a Viking, Val,” Stoick replied calmly. “He’ll eventually need to defend himself—to defend this village. He needs to learn how at some point.” 

“But—but can’t we wait until he’s a little older? A little bigger?”

Gobber chimed in, “He’d be behind. All the kids would laugh at him.” Stoick nodded to his best friend, acknowledging his support. They both turned to Valka.

She sobbed and threw her knitting needles and yarn down. “Fine!” she cried. “Let our baby die!” 

With that, Valka stormed from the room. 

Thunder boomed outside.  
~*~*~  
As she left the Great Hall, Valka was fuming. Above her, a storm was brewing, and she wondered if this day could get any worse. A dragon raid, something that always ended in a fight with Stoick, with the added agreement with Hiccup that she would bare witness to his first dragon killing. And the look into her son’s mind that had accompanied that deal: he felt unwanted, useless, unneeded. He’d convinced himself of his own worthlessness—No, the village had convinced him of it. Their abuse had broken her little boy’s spirit, and their lack of respect for her left her powerless to stop them. Instead, they were both outcasts, and Hiccup was spiraling into depression far too young.  
She hurt. She stopped in the middle of the path to her house as the rain started to fall. Her soul hurt.  
She needed Cloudjumper. 

Mind made up, Valka took the rest of the path to her house, slamming the front door behind her. Hiccup wasn’t home. Part of her wondered where he was. Probably in the forge, as he hadn’t been in the Great Hall when she left. She put tried putting thoughts of her son out of her mind, as all of them lead back to the twisting feeling he’d given her during the dragon raid. 

“I want to be wanted!” 

Grinding her teeth, Valka grabbed a bag and a few fish from the kitchen and left out the back door. The hill their house was built on was steeper on this side for whatever reason, and Valka had been using the villagers’ and Stoick’s disinterest in the terrain for 15 years. No one came back here, so no one saw the well-traversed path that led into the forest at the base of Berk’s mountain range. 

When she first started visiting Cloudjumper, she’d allowed her paranoia to dictate her actions, and had tried to avoid taking the same route to their meeting clearing every time. That soon became cumbersome, though, as she found herself getting lost occasionally, and she often had to backtrack and take a more familiar route. In the end, the longest, but easiest route to traverse had made a decent enough compromise, and as the years passed, her confidence in her ability to keep her secret grew.  
The clearing was truly at the base of the mountain range, a spot where the trees were only thick enough to block the view of it from Berk, but anyone on the mountain would see straight down. Not, really, that anyone was ever on that part of the mountain. The best sheep grazing fields were on the other side of the mountain, and everyone knew that. And so, this clearing was the perfect place to meet Cloudjumper, especially in the afternoons and evenings, when no one on Berk was standing around long enough to notice him flying in or taking off. 

Valka arrived in the clearing out of breath, having walked just a bit too fast for her age. She collapsed on the ground and leaned against one of the smaller trees. He’d notice her soon enough. He never left the island and its immediate waters and was often in the vicinity of the clearing at this time of day when she visited the most. He’d find her.  
The rain was coming down at a steady pace, cold and soaking through her clothes. She’d probably be covered in mud by the time she came home, she realized, and Stoick would wonder what on Midgard she’d been up to that she’d made such a mess. He’d never believe that she was training with some weapon, he’d known her far too long for that. So, what could she tell him? Hopefully, nothing. Hopefully, he’d still be out working in the village she got home, and she’d hide her soiled clothes under the bed and wash them tomorrow.  
All thoughts of her husband’s potential suspicions vanished as the foliage rustled, and Valka opened her eyes (When had she closed them?) to Cloudjumper peeking his great head through the branches of the trees. Golden eyes glowed in the dim, stormy light, and a happy coo filled the clearing. 

Relief. She had no other word for it. No one else understood her the way Cloudjumper did, and all she felt in that moment was relief. Standing, she launched herself across the clearing at him and tucked herself under his chin to bury her face in his chest. 

“I missed you today,” she whispered. A sadder coo. “I’m sure you saw the raid…Stoick and I had another fight.” Valka pulled off Cloudjumper and backed into the center of the clearing. “He wants to send Hiccup to dragon training! He wants him to learn how to—” she broke off, choking. She stared at her feet as they grew colder from the rain. “Hiccup will probably be ecstatic,” she whispered brokenly. She looked back up at her best friend, “He doesn’t feel wanted, Cloudjumper. He’s convinced he’s useless!” Dry sobs turned to tears with that, and Cloudjumper further entered the clearing with a comforting rumble. Latching on to him was instinct, and she sobbed against his snout for several minutes.  
The tears dried up when memories of her deal with Hiccup resurfaced. She pulled away from Cloudjumper and wiped her eyes—not that it did any good in the rain. “He’s built this contraption,” she began, trusting that Cloudjumper would realize she still meant Hiccup. “And he used it to shoot down a Night Fury during the raid,” she sniffed and took a deep breath, “He wants me to go with him to find it, and—and after I heard what he thinks of himself, I—I couldn’t say no! I have to go be his witness while he kills this innocent creature…” 

Cloudjumper cooed one more time, laying down on his belly with his chin on his paws. Valka nodded her understanding about his reaction. “I’m telling you Cloudjumper, today has been just miserable…” 

She climbed up into his back and laid there for a while, trying to collect some of the pieces of herself. 

~*~*~

This meeting wasn’t going well. 

“We need to find the nest!” Stoick reiterated. He slammed his fist on the table. “We need to stop the beasts once and for all!”

“Those ships never come back,” someone whined. Stoick resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Or throw something at them.

“Come on! We’re Vikings! We can’t give up!” he had tried using the whole We’re Vikings thing in the last couple of meetings, and with each one it was losing its persuasive hold on his men. The people needed something better. And he had nothing of the sort to give them. He glanced at Gobber. Helpfully, his best friend shrugged and shook his head. Stoick sighed and gave up a little inside. 

“Fine,” he grunted. “Whoever stays is in charge of Hiccup and Valka.” 

Hands shot up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short, so...

“It was just over here!” Hiccup called to his mother, who was several feet behind him and starting to get tired. Hiccup looked around and sighed. Despite the enthusiasm he showed Valka, he was very tired, and every annoyed. He glanced up at the heavens, “Why me?” he asked the gods. “I mean, seriously! Most people lose a shoe or whatever—I lose an entire dragon!” He slapped a tree branch in frustration, and it slammed back into him. Valka tutted. 

“C’mere,” she murmured, taking his chin in her hand. She turned his head, inspecting the damage, and Hiccup’s eyes widened. He yanked himself out of her grasp. 

“There!” he cried, pointing. The tree he’d been hit with was broken, and a rivet in the dirt lead into a ravine. “C’mon!” He snatched her hand and together the two Haddocks slid into the small valley. 

The dragon was massive—and beautiful, Valka thought. Not as big as Cloudjumper, she mused, but big enough to kill them both, and likely much bigger than Hiccup had anticipated. The lad was shaking, but Valka merely stared, wondering why she’d agreed to this. 

“I’m gonna kill you, dragon,” Hiccup whispered, almost to himself. Valka’s heart clenched at that, and she let go of her son’s hand. 

“Oh, I can’t watch!” Valka turned around as Hiccup pulled the knife from his vest. She covered her eyes, thinking of Cloudjumper…

A low moan emanated from the dragon and Valka stiffened. Hiccup made the vital mistake of looking the beast in the eye. 

The dragon lay its head back, seemingly at peace with its fate, but Hiccup could see: It was scared. Terribly, horribly frightened of what lay beyond this realm, and he just…  
His heart broke a little. 

“I can’t do this,” Hiccup admitted, lowering the knife. Valka turned, hardly believing her ears. 

“Hiccup?” 

“I can’t do this, Mom,” he repeated. He gestured at the dragon, and it growled. He remembered he had the knife in his hand, and he dropped it. It bounced on the grass between Hiccup and the dragon. “Look at him!” When did it become a him? “He’s terrified!” 

Valka lit up, relief spreading across her features, “Of course he is, son,” she whispered, “He’s an intelligent creature! He’s—he’s—” 

“Peaceful,” Hiccup finished. 

“Yes,” the pleased smile on Valka’s face told Hiccup he was doing the right thing. 

A thought suddenly occurred to Hiccup. “Let’s cut him free!” He cried. Valka nodded eagerly, and Hiccup took up the knife again, this time with a whole new purpose. 

Hiccup knelt and grasped the first rope. The dragon glanced at him curiously. “Don’t worry, Bud,” Hiccup whispered. “We’ll get you out of this.” 

Valka knelt by her son and laid a supporting hand on his back as he cut each piece of rope. Soon enough, the dragon was free—and holding Hiccup hostage against a rock. 

Valka gasped. “Hiccup!” she cried. Standing, she pushed herself in between the beast and her son as it growled and snarled. She held a hand up, palm out, towards the beast. “Back!” she ordered. “Get back, dragon!” She shoved the beast’s nose and he turned away, grumbling. 

“Good boy,” Valka whispered with satisfaction. Behind her, Hiccup stood, shaking.

“How did you—?” His voice was trembling, fear laced throughout. His mother turned. Her eyes looked as if she was just remembering he was there. 

“Hiccup!” she rushed him, taking his face in her hands and turning it to either side. “Are you alright, dear?”

“I’m fine,” Hiccup pushed her away. “How did you do that?” he repeated with earnest. Valka suddenly looked guilty. She refused to meet his eyes, instead choosing to look at the ground off to the side. 

“I think it’s time I told you the truth,” she admitted. Hiccup started. 

“The truth?” he asked. 

Mind made up, Valka straightened, “Meet me here,” she ordered. “Tonight.” And with that she was gone, racing off toward the village. Confused, Hiccup followed at his own pace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that I live for comments!! :) <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another one!

The village was a bustle of noise as always, filled with too many people with too many personal goals, all trying to use the same public spaces. Hiccup watched his mother as she darted back into the public fray, skillfully ignoring the glances and murmurs that greeted her as they passed. They entered the Great Hall one after the other, and Hiccup followed her to get food. The bowl she gave him had some kind of lamb stew, and his stomach turned a little. After everything today, he wasn’t sure he could eat. With a bowl of food for herself, Valka took off across the Hall, finding their regular table in the corner and plopping into her habitual seat. Hiccup slid onto the bench across from her. 

“What just happened?” he demanded. Valka shook her head. She focused on her food, stirring the stew aggressively. 

“Later, Hiccup,” she promised firmly. 

“But—”

“Later,” she insisted, finally meeting his eyes. “There’s too many people around for this. I don’t want word getting back to your father.” 

“What?” Hiccup sat back a little, “You’re keeping something from Dad?!” 

Exhaustion passed over his mother’s eyes, and she slumped a little, “Let it go, for now, dear. We’ll talk tonight, okay? I promise.” Hiccup held her gaze for several seconds, his heartbeat suddenly far too loud. The pleading in her eyes was new; he’d never seen his mother look so desperate. He nodded. 

“Alright, fine. But it’ll be late,” he warned. She nodded. 

“I’d expect as much.” 

~*~*~ 

Valka paced the width of the small clearing, hands clenched tightly behind her back. Her heart was racing; she could hear her blood pounding in her ears, and her vision had narrowed to just the white puffs of breath in front of her. Beside her, Cloudjumper watched her with concern, his eyes following her every move. 

The great dragon huffed, and with an annoyed groan, he nudged his head into her path. Valka stopped with a start and let out a small cry. She tripped, and Cloudjumper caught her with a dragon-laugh. “Oh, shut it, you!” She muttered as she gathered her composure. “You startled me, ye great beast!” Chuckling, she ran her hand over his face and slowly began to walk the length of his body, fingers trailing lightly along. Cloudjumper turned his head to follow her movements, concern still in his eyes. 

She caught his gaze as she stopped near his tail. “We’re going to see Hiccup today,” she whispered. Cloudjumper straightened at the mention of his rider’s offspring; he hadn’t seen the boy since he was a hatchling. Valka tilted her head, “Tonight,” she amended. “He doesn’t want to kill dragons anymore…” she whispered. Pacing forward, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against Cloudjumper’s shoulder. “At least I don’t think he does. He couldn’t kill that Night Fury—the one I told you about earlier. He looked into his eyes; he saw the fear there…He asked me to help him let it go…” Sighing, Valka tilted her head up and leaned it against Cloudjumper. “I decided to tell him about you…but I don’t know how he’ll react…” 

Valka huffed and turned her back to the scales she was leaning against before sliding down to the grass. “What if he hates me for this? That I’ve lied to him? To Stoick? What if he can’t forgive me for this?! I don’t think I could bare to lose him like that!” 

Cloudjumper crooned. Behind her, Valka heard him shuffle as he lowered himself into the grass and rested his head on his paws. Ideally, she reached out and found the webbing on his head with her fingers. She stroked it briefly before collapsing completely beside him. The sun was low in the sky, but she knew it would be a long while after sunset before Hiccup would dare leave the village. The villagers were used to her disappearing—they preferred her gone, really. They’d notice if Hiccup—who had spent the majority of his adolescence drawing attention to himself—started vanishing while there was still work to be done. They might be glad for it, sure, but they would notice all the same. 

Sometimes Valka wondered where she and Stoick had gone wrong. Hiccup was a lovely boy—brilliant, with a quick wit and sarcasm that rarely stopped—but he was small, and fragile, and his obvious differences from the rest of the townsfolk made it hard for him to find acceptance. And sometimes Valka wondered if that was her fault. She wasn’t a good cook, maybe he hadn’t eaten enough as a boy. Or maybe she’d been too soft on him, and Stoick had been right in trying to get him to exercise. Maybe, maybe, maybe…  
Cloudjumper started moving, and Valka crawled away to give him space to stand. She knew without asking where he was going as he shook out his wings. He hadn’t eaten in a while, and in her rush to get here she’d forgotten to grab a few fish. 

The Stormcutter looked at her in askance, and she shook her head. Not today. She had to make at least one more appearance in town, engage in small talk with one or two more housewives that didn’t really like her. She couldn’t go flying just yet. 

Cloudjumper knew better than to try and persuade her otherwise. He shook out his wings again before spreading them high, taking off with a leap. Valka sighed as she watched him go. 

~*~*~

“Hiccup!” Stoick announced as soon as Hiccup and Valka entered the house. Valka sighed and slipped over to the back corner, busying herself with “cleaning dishes.” This was it, she supposed, Stoick was going to force Hiccup into dragon training regardless of what she—or Hiccup—wanted. She slumped and slowly turned back to face them. 

“Dad!” Hiccup paused on his way up the stairs, “I have to talk to you, Dad…”

Eagerly, Stoick turned to his son. “I need to speak with you too, son,” he agreed. There was a pause, and then they both spoke at once, their words becoming unintelligible. Valka smiled. Despite their—admittedly, many—differences, her boys were more alike than they cared to admit.   
“You go first.” 

“No, uh, no you, you go first.” Hiccup shifted awkwardly, wringing his hands. 

Stoick nodded, “Alright…You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning.” 

Valka could see the moment the panic lit up on Hiccup’s face, and as his eyes met hers, she knew he knew that she’d kept this from him. As they stared at each other, hurt and confusion joined hands with the panic. 

Her son righted himself soon enough, turning back to his father, “I…I should have gone first. Because I—I was thinking…we don’t really have a whole lot of bread-making Vikings, or small home repair…Vikings…” His voice grew smaller as his confidence waned.

Stoick hefted an axe off the floor, “You’ll need this,” he stated, dropping it into Hiccup’s arms. The boy staggered. 

“Dad, I can’t kill dragons!” Stoick paused. Hiccup, it seemed, had a way of dropping personal information into conversations and throwing his parents for a loop. 

“You can’t,” The Chief asked, “Or you won’t?” He looked at Valka, whose stomach knotted. She readied herself to speak, to get into another fight, but Hiccup spoke first, taking the easiest route away from an argument. 

“I can’t,” he said. Stoick turned back to him. Hiccup shrugged. “I’m not exactly the strongest Viking in the village, am I?” He gave his father a self-deprecating smile. “How am I supposed to fight dragons like this?” 

Stoick brightened, “But you will fight dragons!” he declared, “That is what dragon training is for! Tomorrow morning, you become one of us!” He straightened the axe in Hiccup’s grip. “Tomorrow morning, you think like us, you talk like us; no more of…this!” He waved vaguely at Hiccup. The boy slouched with an eye roll. 

“You just gestured to all of me…” 

Stoick ignored the sarcasm in preference of grabbing his helmet, hefting a bag over his shoulder, and nodding to Valka. “I’ll be back…Probably.” To Hiccup, he added, “Train hard.”   
And with that. He was gone. 

Hiccup locked eyes with his mother and shook his head in exhaustion. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he sighed, and dropped the axe on his way upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. I post 2 chapters in a day and then go most of the weekend with squat. Sorry. As I said at the start of this venture, my updates are irregular at best and ridiculous as worst. In my defense, though, if you look at my account, you'll notice that the only other multi-chapter fanfiction there is only 4 chapters and is rather short. So please, bare with me here. I'm doing my--admittedly rather shitty--best.  
> Still, y'all have been far more receptive to this story than I expected, so that's a large source of motivation. Thank you.

It was around midnight before Hiccup left the house for the cove. With the added ingredient of dragon training to his Inner Crisis Soup, he found that he needed time to think, and so he spent some time drawing—more than once, he drew the Night Fury. When the moon was high in the sky and his candle was low, Hiccup decided he was ready. 

It was then that he snuck out. 

The walk through the forest had been a relatively long one before, but now it felt even longer. Trepidation filled him more and more with each passing moment, and his heart pounded in his ears. He had an eerie feeling that whatever his mother planned on telling him tonight would change his life irrevocably, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that. His life wasn’t great now, per se, but he could depend on a certain amount of routine and inner stability. Any potential change to that sent his gut turning with nerves. 

Reaching the damage that the Night Fury caused, Hiccup slip into the cove. “Mom?” he called he looked around, trying to get his bearings. He held his knife at the ready, unable to see the Fury in the dead darkness. “Mom?” 

Silence ensued. He could hear the trickle of water down into the pond, and the crickets in the bushes. Somewhere behind him, the foliage rustled. He wondered if the Night Fury was watching him. 

Hiccup was just beginning to think that his mother had left; that she’d perhaps gone looking for him, when a heavy gust of air blew him off his feet. It was followed by several more gusts, each one closer than the last. One arm shielding his face from the ensuing dust, Hiccup looked up. 

A massive dragon with two sets of wings was landing in the cove. As Hiccup watched, its feet touched the ground and shook the surrounding area. It folded its wings when it was sure it was steady, looking around the cove with curiosity.

But Hiccup was no longer focused on the mystery dragon. Instead, he was paying attention to the familiar figure on its back. 

Valka. 

Valka was riding a dragon. 

His mother was riding a dragon. 

Hiccup scrambled to his feet. His mother stood from her crouch on the dragon’s back and slid down one of the beast’s wings. She landed lightly on the grass with barely a sound. Despite the look on Hiccup’s face, she was beaming brighter than the moonlight. 

“Hiccup,” she began gently, “This is Cloudjumper. My best friend.” 

“Your—” Hiccup swallowed. “Your best friend is a dragon?” 

Clearly, she was excited. She nodded with a smile and took Hiccup’s hand to drag him closer to Cloudjumper. 

“He’s a Stormcutter, to be precise. He, uhm, played a little game of kidnapping when we first met, but he never meant to hurt me! He was playing, I think—weren’t you, Cloudjumper?” Valka turned to the dragon as they grew nearer, scratching the beast under its chin. The dragon crooned, and after another minute or two of scritches, he collapsed, quite happily, to the ground with a thump. He continued to croon as Valka chittered happy nonsense to him, and suddenly Hiccup was feeling very, very awkward. 

“Mom?” he asked eventually. Valka stiffened as though she’d been caught stealing and stood up just a little too straight when she turned to face him. 

“Oh, uhm, right. Yes. You have questions, I’m sure?” She fidgeted nervously with the hem of her tunic, then the end of her hair, before finally leaning rather awkwardly against Cloudjumper. 

“Uhh…yeah. Like, where’d you find him? Where have you been hiding him?” 

“I told you: he kidnapped me. During a dragon raid. Your father wasn’t exactly amused, but I…” she trailed off and glanced at her friend again. 

“Okay, but where’s he been all this time?” Hiccup pressed. His mother glanced up at Cloudjumper, and then looked back at him. 

“There’s a clearing at the base of the mountains, where the forest thins out. You can reach it from our backyard. I usually meet him there.” 

Mind reeling, Hiccup combed through his memory, trying to find some evidence that his mother was telling the truth. Finally, he latched onto a comment she’d just made: “You can reach it from our backyard,” and remembered the small path that led down the back of their family’s hill, into the forest. He hadn’t given it thought for years—maybe he never had. And all this time his mother had been using it to hide and contact a dragon. 

“How long have you been hiding this?” Hiccup demanded. Valka gave him a teasing smile. 

“How old are you?” she quipped, despite knowing the answer. Hiccup balked, and she chuckled softly. “Honestly, though…” she paused. “I met Cloudjumper just a few months after you were born. Like I said, he snatched me during a dragon raid, but he didn’t make it far before your father had him wounded and landing in the mountains. He took me home, but before he did, well…” she sighed. “You have to understand, Hiccup, Cloudjumper was hurt. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he’d die if I didn’t help. I was apprenticed with Gothi at the time, so I knew—still know, y’don’t forget that sort o’ thing—which herbs would help the most. I went back to the mountains. Every day. For a long time. Sometimes I even took you up there.” Her smile came back, and her voice took on a familiar, happy quality it always did when she mentioned Hiccup’s infancy and early childhood. 

“Me?” Shock ran through Hiccup as his mother’s words settled in, and he blinked. 

Valka laughed, “Well I could hardly leave you alone, now could I?” she asked. When he failed to answer, she took that as an invitation to elaborate. “You know how your father is, always so busy with the village. He hasn’t changed in fifteen years or longer. With him not home, I could hardly leave you without anyone to care for you. Sometimes I managed to get my mother to care for you, but she was falling ill, and I felt guilty leaving you with anyone anyway.” She shrugged. “So, I brought you with me.” 

“You brought me near a dragon?!” 

Valka gave him an admonishing look; one she’d perfected over the years with every silly mistake he’d made. “Hiccup,” she reasoned, “You saw today what I have been trying to teach you your whole life. Dragons aren’t mindless beasts.” She pushed off Cloudjumper’s shoulder and began pacing the clearing. As she did, some part of Hiccup realized that this was still his mother, the same woman who had been lecturing him in the manner every few months for 15 years. 

She gestured widely at the cove, “You saw here today, in that Night Fury, the very thing I’ve been talking about! You looked into his eyes, Hiccup! You saw him! Not the mindless monster the villagers see, but the beautiful, intelligent being he is! How can you be surprised that I’d bring you around these creatures, when you know now what they truly are?” She was right, of course. Hiccup had seen, in no uncertain terms, a clear sign of intelligence in the Night Fury. He’d seen the dragon’s fear, and then—worse—his acceptance of his fate. More than that, though, Hiccup had seen himself. He’d seen his own fears, and his own reluctant acceptance of his life reflected back at him, and it had kept him from killing the dragon. If his mother had ever had an experience like that, then he could see why she related to dragons more than people. 

His shoulders dropped, and he nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded, “Of course, you’re right.” He nodded again as he tried to accept the idea that his mother had been the parent that was right the entire time; that his father and his tribe had been wrong—for centuries. If was a difficult acceptance, and he knew it would take a significant amount of time to truly digest. 

The first step. As he had with every new concept in his life, Hiccup began looking for the first step. He found it rather quickly, if he were honest: He needed to learn as much as he could about dragons, so he could reframe his mind to see them as his mother did. With this goal in mind, he let his eyes travel upwards to Cloudjumper’s face, then frowned. For some reason, he’d expected the dragon to be watching him back, but instead, Cloudjumper was staring quizzically at something behind him. As Hiccup watched, the Stormcutter titled his head and crooned, grabbing Valka’s attention. 

“What is it?” His mother spoke in the same affectionate tone she used when he was little, Hiccup noted, but there was an added tinge of worry there; she clearly recognized Cloudjumper’s message. Valka followed her dragon’s gaze intensely, and Hiccup turned on the ball of his foot to join them. 

Body low to the ground, the Night Fury approached them slowly. Its—His—eyes seemed to glow even more brightly than Cloudjumper’s, a fierce, sparkling green. Behind him, Hiccup heard his mother gasp. “There you are!” She whispered. Then, more to herself than anyone, “I thought he’d have flown away…”

The comment peaked Hiccup’s curiosity. Why hadn’t the dragon flown away? He squinted in the darkness, trying to see some other part of the dragon. Was it hurt? Had he done something to it? 

His efforts at inspecting the Night Fury were fruitless, and his mother’s words brought him back to reality soon enough anyway. “Well,” she said brightly, “Since he’s here, maybe you and I can get to know him a bit!” 

Hiccup paused. The Night Fury hadn’t gotten any closer to them. Instead, he eyed Valka and Cloudjumper with caution and paid little attention to Hiccup. He held himself close to the ground, slinking like a feral cat backed into a corner. He didn’t seem particularly enthused at the idea of “getting to know,” the Vikings and the Stormcutter. Most of Hiccup was okay with that. Instinctively, he was perfectly okay letting the Fury be. But part of him—the part that knew his mother’s arguments for dragon intelligence by heart, the part that had looked into the Night Fury’s brilliant eyes and dropped the knife—sobbed at the idea of abandoning an opportunity. 

In the end, the instinct won out, and he glanced at his Mom. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. At the look on Valka’s face, he added, “I mean, he doesn’t look too ready for friendship, does he?” 

Valka chuckled. Her eyes turned back to the Night Fury with fondness. “No, he doesn’t, does he?” Hiccup watched his mother chew the inside of her lip as she contemplated their nervous visitor. After a moment, she turned her back on the Fury (with far more confidence than Hiccup really thought was sane—this was a deadly accurate predator after all) and approached Cloudjumper. 

She scratched the Stormcutter’s chin, and it struck Hiccup how oddly natural the action looked. It only took him a moment to place the reason: Valka was comfortable. Really, truly comfortable. Hiccup hadn’t seen her this relaxed since—well, ever. In the village, she always seemed to be looking over her shoulder, as if the Vikings she’d grown up with were more of a threat to her than the cornered and posturing Night Fury she was currently ignoring. Even Stoick, her husband—and the man she occasionally had to assure Hiccup she did, in fact, care about—made her more tense and jumpy than these creatures. 

This realization shook Hiccup more than the revelation of Cloudjumper had. Cloudjumper’s existence seemed almost like a mildly surprising given. In retrospect, Hiccup couldn’t honestly say that he was surprised she’d pull a stunt like that. But the reality that—on some level—Valka viewed the creatures her tribe hunted and killed as less of a threat than her own species, was genuinely, deeply disturbing. He swallowed. When had his mother gone from “Animal activist,” to “Defector?” 

“Why don’t you go introduce yourself, hmm?” Valka murmured, and Cloudjumper cooed. The larger dragon turned his attention to the Night Fury with an expression similar to the look Gobber had when he was assessing a problem to be solved in the forge. As Hiccup watched, a light came on behind Cloudjumper’s eyes. The dragon hummed and stood with confidence. The Night Fury backed away as Cloudjumper approached, Valka stepping aside in the process. Hiccup lost sight of his mother as Cloudjumper stepped between them and he stepped back reflexively. The Stormcutter didn’t even glance at him. 

The Night Fury had relaxed slightly while Valka and Hiccup had been speaking, but he tensed right back up when Cloudjumper approached. The other dragon paid the Fury’s warning snarls no mind as he slowly raised a paw in the air. The Night Fury ducked as the paw came down, lightly bopping him on the head. Confused green eyes stared at Cloudjumper, who immediately dropped into a playful, dog-like stance. As Hiccup watched, the Night Fury’s eyes widened, and he mirrored the position. 

Hiccup’s eyes immediately were immediately drawn over the rest of the Fury’s body, and eventually to the end of his tail, which hung in the air as he postured in front of Cloudjumper. Behind him, his mother gasped, and Hiccup knew exactly why. The left flap of his tail was completely gone. It was no wonder he hadn’t flown away, Hiccup thought. Over the years, Valka had expressed her vehement distaste for Stoick and Gobber’s policy of “going for the wings and the tails,” when fighting dragons. “Downed dragons,” Gobber had once told Hiccup, “Are dead dragons. I’m sure ye can see why your mother doesn’t like that much.” 

The Night Fury waved his crippled tail briefly before bounding off across the cove, shapeless in the darkness. If it weren’t for Cloudjumper’s eager chance, Hiccup would have lost sight of the smaller dragon within seconds. As it was, he tried to keep tabs on him as he backed toward Valka. 

“We have to help him,” he whispered. “I did that to him. I’ve crippled him. We have to find a way to help him survive.” Hiccup looked up at his mother as he said so. Valka’s eyes lit up with pride. 

“I agree, love,” she whispered. “We can’t leave him like this.” She paused and turned to watch the two dragons. “Cloudjumper can hunt for him in the morning, but that’s hardly a permanent solution. We need to find a viable way to help him…” Her voice trailed off as she drifted into thought. Hiccup bit his lip and didn’t respond immediately. 

In that moment, Hiccup knew two things: The Night Fury was crippled for life, and he wasn’t likely to get close to the black dragon any time soon. Not on his own, anyway. But he wasn’t on his own. He had his mother, and Valka had Cloudjumper. Together, Hiccup was certain that they could think of something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have stated before, and will state again and again until the end of time, I live for feedback. Validation is my life-blood. Help me out, here, okay? :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, so I go like, what 2? 3? weeks without an update and then drop one? Oooffff, I'm *sorry*!

Hiccup got very little sleep that night. He and Valka had spent close to two hours with the dragons, with Valka teaching Hiccup as much as she could in the low lighting. Truth be told, that wasn’t a whole lot, as a good deal of what she had wanted to show him required Hiccup to get a whole lot closer to Cloudjumper than he was comfortable with in that moment. Valka had smiled and assured him that it was okay, that she wasn’t upset, but Hiccup could hear the waver of mild disappointment in her voice. She had never been good at hiding her emotions. 

So, eventually they went home, with Cloudjumper settling down in the cove with the Night Fury after a long goodbye with Valka. Mother and son walked home together, chatting all the while, and for the first time in a long time, Hiccup felt close to someone. Valka was opening up to him in a way she hadn’t for anyone, and likewise, he could be himself with her. He found that the dragons were genuinely fascinating creatures and discussing them with his mother gave him a hope that someone else would, eventually, want him. 

Despite the little amount of sleep he got; Hiccup woke up in a good mood for once. And, with Stoick off on another hunt for the nest, the air in the house was warm and comfortable, with the stress of secrets having vanished. Hiccup jumped off the stairs, over the bottom step, and Valka laughed. 

“You’re chipper this morning,” she observed, and Hiccup shrugged. 

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked, “I had a really good time with you last night, and Dad’s not around to spoil it!” 

Valka’s smile faltered. She stopped stirring their morning porridge and frowned at him. “Your father means well, you know,” she murmured. 

Hiccup paused in the act of filling a mug with water. He shrugged again, “I mean, I know, I guess…” he put the mug on the counter and turned to face his mother, “Why does he have to make everything a fight? He never listens to you, and he doesn’t even want me—”

“Hiccup!” Valka shot to her feet at that, affronted, “Of course, he wants you!” 

Hiccup snorted, “Yeah, okay, right. About as much as he’d want the Night Fury…” 

“He wants you!” his mother insisted, “We both want you! We love you!” 

Hiccup knew a fight when he saw one, and he backed down with a sigh, unwilling to ruin the closeness from the night before, “All I’m saying is that he’s got a funny way of showing it,” he reasoned, turning back to his mug. He spooned more water into it and grabbed another mug for his mother, “I guess I’m just glad we don’t have to sneak around, at least not in the house, and not until he gets back. We can talk about what we want and not get scolded for it.”

At that, Valka chuckled, “I’ve been talking about what I want for longer than you’ve been alive, Hiccup. A couple of arguments aren’t going to stop me from that.” Hiccup snorted. He turned around and handed her a mug, which she accepted with a small nod. 

“Not sure I’d call fifteen years of screaming matches ‘a couple of arguments,’” he quipped. Valka sighed. 

“We disagree on one thing. Yes, it comes up a lot, and yes, we tend to be loud with our opinions—but we are Vikings, you can’t expect a disagreement to be civil, can you?” 

As she spoke, Valka bent back over the fire to fill two bowls with porridge. She handed the first one to Hiccup. He sniffed it and winced. She’d never been the best cook, but for some reason, breakfast was her worst meal. He turned and ran his eyes over the small shelf of herbs and spices, picking a few off with little conscious thought. 

“It is not that bad!” Valka squawked, her laughing a little as she stood. “You haven’t even tried it!” 

“You’re right, I didn’t. I didn’t have to. I could have smelled it from the forge and still would’ve changed it.” Hiccup glanced up from his bowl to gauge her reaction. His sense of humor was often hit and miss. Delightfully, his mother laughed. 

“Alright, I admit it isn’t the best recipe,” she conceded. Sniffing her own bowl, she glanced at him, “What did you put in yours?” 

Hiccup grinned and turned to the shelf again. 

~*~*~

It took a little wheedling, but Hiccup eventually managed to convince Valka to not walk him to dragon training. She, like everyone else, knew how the teens in Hiccup’s year treated him, and while she didn’t like it, Hiccup eventually convinced her that having his mother walk him to dragon training would only make things worse. 

“Don’t you have chores, anyway?” he asked as she gave in. She sighed. 

“Yes,” she muttered. “Laundry…” With a roll of her eyes, Valka glanced at the full basket sitting by the front door, waiting.

Hiccup paused, thinking. 

“Go to the cove,” he said after several seconds of silence, “Where Cloudjumper and the Night Fury are. Bring your laundry and wash it in the pond there.” He shrugged. “It’s probably just as clean as the stream you usually use.” 

Hiccup smiled as Valka lit up at the suggestion. The smile faltered as she leaned over and kissed his cheek, “I’ll see you later, then,” she agreed. “Good luck today!” Straightening, Valka picked up her laundry basket, settled it on her hip, and grinned at him. She opened the door by pushing backwards into it, continuing to chatter even as they started moving in opposite directions out front. 

“Keep your head up, don’t listen to the others—especially Snotlout, you know he’s just trying to impress the girls. Pay attention to Gobber; he does actually say things of value once in a while—when he’s not blathering on about trolls, of course! And—” 

“Bye, Mom!” Hiccup sighed. He rolled his eyes playfully as he turned away from her, heading into the village. After a beat, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll tell Gobber to find you if I die!”

“I’d rather you not die, dear!” Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh at that as he started down the main path to the village. Shaking his head, he tried to mentally turn his attention to dragon training. 

Even before the events with the Night Fury, the idea of being dropped into a closed space with an angry dragon and five other Viking teens wouldn’t have been very high on Hiccup’s list of “fun,” ways to spend a day. But with the Night Fury fresh in his mind—particularly, the look in his eyes as he gave in to his death—Hiccup found his desire to enter dragon training was quickly dwindling to zero. Still, if Stoick came home from his latest search for the nest to find his son had disobeyed his only departing order, there’d be Hel to pay. So, Hiccup was going. Reluctantly.

The village of Berk was not very big, and the walk to the training ring wasn’t nearly long enough for Hiccup’s preference. As he approached the gate, he found himself less than emotionally prepared for the difficulties he knew were coming. 

The others were already there, waiting for Gobber to arrive with the gate’s keys. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were bickering over Loki knows what in the corner of the entrance, while Fishlegs spoke aloud to no one about what kind of dragon they’d be dealing with first. “Do you think it’ll be a Terrible Terror? Or maybe a Deadly Nadder? Oooh, no! It’ll probably be a Gronkle! What do you think, Astrid? Think it’ll be a Gronkle?” 

Astrid, for her part, was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and sandwiched between Snotlout and Fishlegs. Snotlout was blabbering on about working out in his parents’ basement, while Astrid tuned him out. The shield maiden’s eyebrows rose when she caught sight of Hiccup, and while he waved shyly, there was no other response. All too soon, though, Snotlout noticed him. 

“What are you doing here, Useless?” Hiccup ducked his head at the nickname, scratching his neck as he stuttered out a response. 

“Oh, well, you know…Gotta learn to kill those dragons!” He feigned a weak punch and didn’t meet his cousin’s eyes. 

Hiccup waited for some ugly retort from Snotlout, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Astrid spoke instead. “Your Mom let you?” She sounded genuinely confused, and Hiccup knew immediately why. He finally looked up. 

“Dad didn’t give her much of a choice,” he shrugged. Astrid’s frown deepened, her eyebrows knitting together. 

“Do you want to be here?” 

That question hit home harder than Hiccup would’ve liked, and his mind immediately ran back to the Fury in the woods, and to Valka’s delighted laughter as she played with Cloudjumper. He knew two things instantly: the answer she would expect, and the answer his heart was screaming. “Uh, well—” 

He didn’t get any further than that. Gobber’s jovial voice interrupted the conversation as the blacksmith sauntered over to his class. “Well, looks like the gang’s all here, eh?” He chuckled, “Ruff, Tuff, you’re in my way!” The man’s voice finally startled the twins out of their own little world, and they scooted to the side with disgruntled mumbles. Tuff hit his sister, who looked like she’d have pounced on him if Gobber hadn’t finally unlocked the gates. Eagerly, the class began to file into the training ring. 

“Welcome to Dragon Training!” 

Something like fear rose in the back of Hiccup’s throat, but as he choked the bile down, he realized it was more akin to anxiety. Fear could send him into motion; it motivated him more than it probably should. Anxiety trapped him in place, ground his mind to a stuttering halt, and had his hands shaking. 

Across the ring, the twins were debating the merits of various injuries, and Astrid sighed, “Yeah, it’s only fun if you get a scar out of it…” she drawled, her voice laced with sarcasm. The part of Hiccup’s brain still unparalyzed dimly noted that he hadn’t realized Astrid had a sense of humor. 

“Let’s get started!” Gobber announced, “The one who does best in the ring will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village!” 

“That’s definitely gonna be me,” Tuffnut announced, and his sister sent him a disgusted look. 

“Uh, no it’s not!” Ruff said, “It’s gonna be me!” 

“Will you two shut up?” Snotlout demanded, “We all know it’s gonna be me!” 

Hiccup trailed behind them at an awkward pace, and Gobber laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, lad,” he said, his voice laced with the reassurance Hiccup had clung to for years now, “You’re small and weak; the dragons won’t see you as a target. They’ll go after the more Viking-like teens instead.” 

Hiccup tried to remind himself that his long-time mentor meant well. 

The class assembled into a row facing the dragon cages, and Gobber began to pace in front of them. “Inside these cages are just a few of the many species…” Hiccup tuned him and the others out and focused on smothering his anxiety. As the dragons snarled from behind the cage doors, he remembered the Night Fury’s growled threats from the night before, and he focused on the feelings of curiosity and excitement he’d had most of the night. He remembered Cloudjumper and noted with a bit of relief that Gobber hadn’t mentioned any Stormcutters in the training ring. Gobber shouted something at Fishlegs, and then arrived at the last cage. “…and the Gronkle!” he announced. 

Snotlout put two and two together fairly quickly, and immediately protested, “Aren’t you going to teach us first?!” In any other situation, Hiccup would have been impressed that his cousin had come to the obvious conclusion so fast, but in that moment, he was hanging on to Gobber’s every word. 

“I believe in learning on the job!” 

And just like that: the cage door was open. 

“Alright, what’s the first thing you’re going to need?!” 

Guesses started coming in from all around the ring as the class scattered. “Plus-five speed?!” Fishlegs asked.

“A doctor?!” Hiccup cried as his anxiety flushed away and fear took over. Motivated, he glanced around the ring at the others, and then at the buzzing Gronkle. 

“A shield!” Astrid cried, and Gobber latched on to her answer with satisfaction. 

“Go!” Hiccup stumbled after his classmates. “If you get blasted; you’re dead!” Gobber reminded them all unhelpfully. “Your most important piece of equipment if your shield; choose that every time!” Gobber shoved a shield at Hiccup with mild irritation. In the back of his mind, Hiccup noted that he’d made at least two of these shields; one of which the twins were fighting over. As he watched, said shield was blasted to bits, and the smith half of his mind lamented the loss. 

“Ruff! Tuff! You’re out!” 

Gobber started instructing the remaining teens on the value of noise to throw off a dragon’s aim, and Hiccup wondered if his mother had ever had a need for such knowledge. Her approach to dragons was overall entirely different, but Hiccup could see the merit in using traditional Viking strategies if all else failed. Of course, Valka rarely engaged dragons during raids for any reason, instead diverting her attention to fighting with Stoick and keeping an eye on Hiccup. And, well, the only other dragons Hiccup knew Valka dealt with had yet to pose a threat, so—

When had everyone else been blasted?! 

Astrid darted past him, narrowly avoiding a blast of fire. Hiccup startled into action, turning on his heel and taking off towards the edge of the ring. “One shot left!” Gobber cried.   
And for the second time in a week, Hiccup was pinned by a dragon. He flinched as the Gronkle reared back to blast him, and then Gobber was hooking the beast by his jaw, redirecting the fire over Hiccup’s head. 

“Go back to bed, you over-grown sausage!” He tossed the Gronkle back into its cage and shut the door. He turned back to his class of now-frazzled students. “Remember, a dragon will always, always, go for the kill.”

Something about that statement had alarms ringing in Hiccup’s mind, and he filed it away for discussion with Valka. 

Gobber sauntered back towards the entrance. “Class dismissed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am *still* living for your comments.

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE feedback!! PLEASE drop kudos and comments! I live for them!!


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